


hold

by perfect_little_fool



Series: Stydia Fics Inspired by 30 Day OTP Challenge [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Allison Alive, Cuddling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 19:55:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2824166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfect_little_fool/pseuds/perfect_little_fool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Aiden's death, Lydia won't stop having dreams about him. Stiles is there to help her through it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hold

**Author's Note:**

> day 2 - cuddling

“ _Shit._ ”

Lydia bolts up in bed, her back flat against the wall as she glares over at the figure that had fallen into her room from her open window. The silhouette curses before pushing to their feet, the almost-six foot stature immediately hardening into a familiar face. Lydia immediately relaxes.

“Damnit, Stiles, why didn’t you just text me to tell me you were here so I could open the front door for you like a normal person?” the redhead hisses lightly, shaking her head even as her lips quirk upwards.

The boy shakes his head as he stumbles toward her bed blindly, the dark of her room affecting his ability to find her easily. But he eventually falls onto the recognizable bed, immediately sinking into his usual spot to her right. He smiles over at her in the dim lighting. “You rang?” he jokes lightly, sitting up slightly to remove his jacket. But he keeps eye contact with her, noting how her entire body was covered with a printed afghan from head to toe. He quirks a brow at this.

“I’m cold,” she explains.

Stiles chuckles, leaning back to once again rest his back against the headboard so he was looking down at her as she laid beside him. “What’s wrong?” he murmurs without pushing, twining his hands in his lap even as they twitched to touch.

Green eyes avert from his probing ones, her top teeth revealing themselves to grip onto her full bottom lip. His vision goes hazy for a moment at the sight before he reaches out idly and tugs at her chin, deftly pulling her teeth out and away from the soft skin. “Don’t do that,” he scolds gently, searching her gaze for any sort of distress or unease (as opposed to the distress and unease that was usually there anyway). “Did you have another dream about him?”

A nod was her immediate response to the question. He slides his fingers up and away from her chin to push errant bits of hair away from her face and behind her ear.

“I just—I just don’t understand,” Lydia huffs out, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares angrily at the ceiling. “I didn’t even feel that attached to him, Stiles. It’s not like I truly _felt_ anything for him. Ya know, other than the sexual part—” The boy grimaces but she continues anyway. “Aiden was supposed to be a part of the plan, was supposed to help us get further with the Alpha pack. But—I can’t stop—I don’t—” Another large exhale emits from her nose before she covers her face with her hands. “I’ve dreamed about him at least a dozen times. His—his cold, pale face glaring up at me like it was me, like I—I was the one who killed him and not the—”

“Okay, okay, Lydia,” Stiles interrupts, reaching out with gentle hands to clutch at her wrists, once again using a soothing touch. He is successful in peeling her palms off her flustered cheeks. “Calm down. Take deep breaths.” She does so, inhaling and exhaling and inhaling and exhaling until she seemed coherent once more. “I know. You didn’t think you had an attachment. But…but you _did_. And that’s something you’re just going to have to cope with.”

She shakes her head. “But I keep _seeing_ him, _there_ , every time I close my eyes—”

“So do I,” he once again cuts in, knowing the only way to get Lydia to calm down was to keep talking at her, keep reassuring, keep iterating that she wasn’t alone. “A lot of things have happened in the past few months—and…Lydia, I want you to know you’re not the only one having crazy, neurotic dreams about your ex-boyfriend or...or—or the coyote or, hell, even Isaac. There was just one person who caused all of this—”

“No, no, no,” Lydia instantly shushes him, sitting up as well and grabbing for his face. “It wasn’t _you_ , Stiles. None of us could’ve done anything to save the lives that were lost or the lives that were affected. We tried, Scott tried, Allison tried—there’s not a whole lot we can do about that now is there?”

He gives her a half-hearted smile, reaching up to grab her hand, clasping it in his and bringing it down so the two joined palms rested between their laps. “Yeah, Lyds. I guess you’re right.”

She squints her eyes, attempting to lighten to the mood by giving him a soft shoulder-bump. “That didn’t sound very convincing, but I’m willing to accept it for now, Stilinski. Don’t think I’ll let you take the blame for the events of the past few weeks.”

He glances down. “This isn’t supposed to be about me, Lyds. I came here for you.”

The pounding heart behind her rib cage ricochets loudly, making her once again thank the heavens that Stiles wasn’t a werewolf, meaning she could continue keeping the secret of his affect on her pulse to herself for just a little bit longer. “Yes, you did. So let’s take a breather and just try to sleep, okay?” She gives another watery smile before moving back and turning over, laying on her side facing away from him.

When a few moments pass without any movement coming from his end of the bed, Lydia moves her head back up and glances over at him with one perfectly raised eyebrow. “Well? Are you going to join me or are you going to designate your own corner of the mattress?”

He gives her a little sarcastic smile before sliding in behind her, resting his chest to her back and easily curling an arm around her waist. His nose finds its place in the nest of hair at the back of her neck, taking in a large inhale of breath. “You smell like oranges,” he murmurs against her open skin, the feel of it tickling her. “Did you get new shampoo?”

She shrugs mildly. “I ran out, so I had to use Prada’s hair stuff to get through tonight.”

Stiles moves his head back to laugh louder than he should have with the rest of her house being tucked away to sleep. “You used your _dog’s_ soap for your hair?”

Lydia bumps her hips back against his, a little sharp intake of breath telling her all she needed to know. “Shut up, Stiles. I could’ve not showered at all and allowed you to do as you’re doing right now—would you have preferred that?”

He moves his face back to her neck, basking in the warmth her body was giving off. “I wouldn’t have minded, just as long as this had happened.”

When he says nothing else she grins, rolling back deeper into his splayed body with as much ease as it took to breathe.

**Author's Note:**

> chugging along. I LOVED the reactions to the first part of this. you guys keep me smiling.


End file.
